


That Silent Place

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-02
Updated: 2006-04-02
Packaged: 2019-02-02 17:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: As Daniel's exposure to the sarcophagus on Shy'la's planet grows, so does his need for Jack.





	That Silent Place

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

...deep inside, in that silent place where a child's fears crouch.  
Lillian Smith

He'd told the others how wonderful he felt almost two weeks ago now. They just stood there, asking him repeatedly about why he'd been unable to get them out of the mines, why he'd taken so long to come back down to them. They were unable to grasp that he'd had so many important things on his mind. He was, he told them, "working on it." At least, he philosophized, Pyrus the King had reconsidered his initial decision to have the others executed because of Daniel's influence. He and Shy'la had interceded on behalf of the others, granting them a lifetime of hard labor instead of death. They had no comprehension of how close they'd come or how much they owed to him. 

Ingrates, peons, slaves - they were in his hands now. He was the one who was going to take care of business on this planet. Sam, Jack and Teal'c didn't seem to comprehend this, particularly Jack. He was going to have to do something about Jack. When he spoke to them, they just stood there, their bodies impregnated with mine dirt, covered in sweat and almost at the breaking point, their mouths agape in disbelief. He almost snickered at their predicament, but he knew that would reveal far too much about his plans. So, he was suitably impatient with them considering the number of things that were on his mind since he'd started using the sarcophagus. Everything had suddenly become so clear.

For the first time in his life, he was free of that feeling of being out of place, unwanted and unnecessary. At least, that was how he remembered feeling on his home planet - lost, bewildered, different and mentally unstable. Here on Shy'la's planet, P3R-636, everything was different. With a beautiful princess at his side, he'd be ruler here once he married her. Well, technically he was still married to Shau'ri. He preferred not to think about Shau'ri; the slow slide into disintegration his marriage to her had become, the end where she was dragged off by Apophis's J'affa to become Amaunet his queen. That way lay big whopping feelings of guilt, and he wasn't interested in guilt right now. Not now that chez sarcophagus had made him feel like a god. 

The keen look of disappointment on Jack O'Neill's face when he'd told him that he was going to marry Shy'la was enough. If that disappointment had been about Jack's passion for Daniel, that at least would have been flattering, but he knew that it was about Jack's expectations of him, sweet little Danny Jackson. Twice in the past month Daniel had ordered two of Pyrus's brawny pseudo-J'affa guards to bring his friend Jack up out of the mine for an audience. He'd put his arm around Jack, and assured him of his good intentions. That hadn't stopped him from doing all the check-ins for the past month with Hammond. He didn't want another SG team trailing through the Gate after SG-1. He almost laughed at how easily Hammond had believed him. 

The second time he'd brought Jack out of the mines was only that morning, and God, the stink of Jack's body had been unbelievable! Jack, Teal'c and Sam had been working in the mine for almost a month. None of them had had any opportunity to bathe themselves except in the most cursory manner. Thus, Daniel ensured that he interviewed Jack in a large airy room in the palace.

Hauled up and tossed unceremoniously on the floor by guards whose noses wrinkled fastidiously at having to handle such a filthy prisoner, Jack had lost none of his ability to irritate and annoy Daniel. He stank like a sweaty animal. Daniel thought that it ought to turn him off. Instead, he found himself sexually aroused by the spectacle of an angry, dirty Jack who looked like he wanted to punch Daniel in the face and couldn't. 

He was perched on the elevated platform in front of Jack, and his feet kept a frantic rhythm as his body and mind gyrated faster and faster. Fortunately, the clothes that Shy'la had provided him with disguised the rock hard erection under his pants that happened when he watched the helpless Jack O'Neill. They were all appropriately voluminous and grandiose: a dark green silk jacket, a soft closely woven dark bronze under garment, wide gray silk pants and a four-stranded necklace of smooth gems that Shy'la had put around his neck. 

He beamed at Jack's powerlessness, "I agreed to marry her. She trusts me," he'd said to Jack. He nearly giggled. Jack had simply reminded him that he was already married to Shau'ri, but that wasn't what had really annoyed Daniel. It was so like Jack to point out the obvious. 

What had really annoyed him was the oh-so-obvious detail that Jack still hadn't picked up on. Daniel didn't really want Shau'ri or Shy'la or any other of the silly cloying females who'd paraded themselves in front of him, trying to get him to screw them or marry them or have some kind of relationship with them. All they were good for was being manipulated until he got what he really wanted. Silly bitches. 

That thought reminded him about the other bitch downstairs, the scientist and Air Force pilot, perfect little Captain Sam Carter with her smooth blonde hair and her "yes sir" manners. Oh excuse me, Doctor Sam Carter. Jack had actually tried to enlist Daniel's help by telling him that good ole Sam was having a bad time. That Sam thought Daniel might go 'dark side' from using the sarcophagus. Right, like he didn't know what was best for the residents of this backward planet! Well, that was too damned bad wasn't it? If Sam was working hard pounding rocks, she wasn't dreaming about getting her grubby mitts on Jack and having him pound her into a mattress. The thought of Jack on top of Sam made him catch his breath. He'd kill either of them if he found them doing that. Or maybe he'd just kill Sam - slowly. 

No, he wanted the sweaty, dirty man who was downstairs in the prison for himself. He ached for Jack; he burned for him. When he thought about their friendship back on Earth, about the times they'd spent together at Jack's place or his apartment he wondered why he hadn't pushed for more. He wanted Jack O'Neill stripped and oiled, tied down to his bed in Shy'la's palace, begging Daniel for more. He wanted to top the tall, muscular soldier and hear him whisper the words "please" or better yet "please Daniel", but certainly not "please Danny". 

No, Danny was that other guy, the one who was troubled and needed drugs to stay on top of things, the one that Doc Fraiser kept nagging to go to a shrink, the one that had cried in Jack's arms the night he came back from Abydos, the one who was too scared to seize life and grab it with both hands. Danny was nice and polite and waited his turn. Danny listened to Sam blather on about 'the Colonel this' and 'the Colonel that' as though she had some sort of proprietary rights to Jack O'Neill should he become available. Danny had watched without comment while the Dr. Carter who'd come from the world on the other side of the Quantum Mirror kissed his Jack. Danny didn't mind; he just wanted Jack to be happy. 

So, he'd exiled sweet little Danny to course oblivion when he stopped taking his medications, the ones that shut up the voices in his head. He didn't need them now that he had the sarc. He used the 'sarc' to feel better every day. That was how he thought of the Goa'uld sarcophagus, the sarc, just like it was a new friend he'd just made. Anyway, he was done with Danny Jackson - the sap - and from now it was going to be Daniel Jackson all the way. No, "yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir if you please!" He knew too exactly which bag on Jack O'Neill was going to get filled, and he was just the man to do it! 

He'd already stopped needing his glasses, and despite Jack's admonition that he might go dark side at any moment, he had no plans of cutting off his use of the sarc anytime soon. He'd promised Jack that he was going to let them go, but there was one further thing he had to do. Shy'la had figured out about his dark side and its needs, and had no objections if he amused himself with the slaves. After all, they wouldn't consummate their relationship until after the marriage. 

What he loved most about this arrangement was that even though she loved him, it didn't mean that they had to be exclusive to each other. Not ever. It was understood that there might be others - concubines, men, whatever he wanted. And after over twenty trips to his friend, the sarc, Daniel Jackson knew exactly what he wanted. He'd be king of this place with Shy'la at his side, and Jack O'Neill serving under him as his bed slave. Jack would do it, if it meant letting stupid Sam Carter and noble Teal'c go free. Jack was all about the team and being self-sacrificing. He'd take it up the ass if it was for the good of the team. 

So, with that in mind, he'd sent four guards to go and get Jack up from the mine down under. Of course, he knew Jack would have to be cleaned up and prepared. He counted on Jack to fight the guards with every ounce of his strength, which was why Daniel had sent so many guards to do the job of retrieving him. He didn't want his prize damaged in any way. He considered having Jack stripped bare and tied to his bed, but he didn't want that. Jack had to agree to have sex with Daniel of his own volition. Daniel wasn't sure if what he wanted to do with Jack was love, but it was need, pure and simple. Words like love just confused things in his mind.

There was a new toy that Shy'la had given to him. Daniel had seen pictures of it in men's magazines on Earth, the kind of magazines you hid so your visitors wouldn't find them. So he knew that was a St. Andrew's cross. It was in the form of an "X". It had leather handcuffs on the top and bottom. The top locked so your victim couldn't get loose. You could use it for sex, the strength of your pleasure being about the pure surrender and trust offered by your partner. Sometimes, surrender would happen after the subject was tied down to the cross. It was mobile; it could be tied to the floor, to the wall or even placed on a bed. Shy'la told him that after chaining someone up, they'd often give into your desires. Technically, the woman who wanted to be his future was wife was a virgin, but she had experimented with many other outlets for her sexuality. She'd even suggested that he could tie her to the cross on their wedding night. Until then and even after then, she said, he was free to pursue whatever sexual interests stimulated him. After all, their union went beyond the mere physical realm. 

Of course, he hadn't told her about his plans for Jack. He wasn't sure how she'd feel about the fact that he had no intention of living on her planet without Jack. He wanted to own Jack, body and soul. Every time he went into the sarc, the need for this union became stronger and stronger. He'd had the St. Andrew's cross affixed to his huge bed in the palace, with chains to stabilize it, so that he could sit beside his friend while he seduced him. 

Planning played a major role in what he'd decided to do to Jack that night. He wanted to look at Jack's long sinuous limbs without interference. However, Daniel also knew if he humiliated Jack too much that he would fail in his planned evening seduction. It would also break their bond, and he didn't want to do that. So, he'd had uncooperative Jack O'Neill scrubbed down, rubbed clean and his body oiled. That way, he could appreciate Jack's physique better. He'd made the guards dress him in a short soft leather sleeveless vest and a leather loincloth that could be easily removed.

He'd had dinner that night with Shy'la, and he'd been quite careful about not telling her about his plans for the evening. She had, in fact, agreed to let the visitors from Earth go free on the following morning; he guessed that she believed his addiction to the sarcophagus would overwhelm him once he was back at home. She could be right, he thought, but he wasn't staying anywhere without Jack. Jack was the yin to his yang, his other half, everything Daniel wasn't and would like to be.

When he entered the room, Daniel observed that, as he requested, the room was softly lighted with fresh white candle tapers. Wine and food were laid out on a table. The air was freshly scented with a woodsy perfume. He looked over the other man. A month of hard labor in the mine had toned the sinewy arms and legs well, and the oil that had been applied directly his skin made Jack's muscles glow in the candlelight. He wanted nothing more than to run his fingers over Jack's arms and legs, but he waited to be asked.

Jack had a bruise on his left cheekbone and temple, and a large bruise on his leg. He'd remember to talk to one of the guards about that. In spite of being chained up, Jack had fallen fast asleep, a product of exhaustion and overwork in the mines. As he slept, Daniel noticed a proud and defiant look on his face. Pulled like a magnet to the man he desired, Daniel went over and sat on the bed at Jack's right side and touched the bruise on his face tenderly.

Jack jerked his head up, suddenly attentive and wide-awake. This was, Daniel recalled, one of Jack's habits from his days in Special Ops, the ability to wake up in a state of readiness at any time. The brown eyes widened in surprise, and an angry smile streaked across his features, "Why, it's the man who would be King." He said sarcastically, repeating his comments of the afternoon. Then he added, "Why little Danny Jackson as I live and breathe! What is it now, Daniel, are you going to bring your Princess Shy'la in here for some more excitement? I guess this outfit will have a high entertainment value."

"You fought them hard, Jack," Daniel observed, trying to make himself feel distant from this man and failing, "Why did you fight them? Now, you're hurt." He clicked his tongue in disapproval and brought over a cold cloth that he applied to Jack's temple and cheekbone.

Jack winced and jerked his head angrily away from Daniel's touch, "Leave me the hell alone, Danny."

"Don't you call me that here, Jack," Daniel warned. "You're not in charge here. I am. I'm not little Danny Jackson anymore. I don't need pills and meds to make me feel good. Danny's not here!"

"Shy'la watching through a peephole, is she?" Jack asked sarcastically.

Daniel sighed, "No, Jack as a matter of fact, she isn't. Apparently, I'm free to take my pleasure any way I want. Shy'la and I haven't consummated our union. Our marriage will be more of a political union than a passionate one. I can keep you here as my slave indefinitely, seeing to my pleasure, standing at my side. Or is being a mere sidekick more than the pride of Jack O'Neill can stand? That's the role I've had with you all this time, standing by your side as your helper, watching you get closer and closer to Sam Carter by the week," He spat out the words, knowing as he did so that it wasn't what he meant to say.

"What the hell are you talking about Daniel?" The brown eyes burned into him, 

"Been following my orders have you? That's a joke! The last time you followed an order was probably in kindergarten when it was naptime, and I doubt even then you ever did what you were told. Has it ever occurred to you that the only reason I tolerate your insubordination is because we are equals Danny? Equals. My friend Danny knows what that means. I want to speak to him; he'd never hurt me. Maybe you want to be Daniel, but I miss Danny. He's gentle and tender, and he misses his wife. Danny's the one who saved Shy'la. Danny's the one who saved my life on Abydos. I want to speak to him."

A wall of feeling hit Daniel's senses hard and he choked, "I told you, Danny's gone."

"Is that right?" Jack questioned him his intense brown eyes burning into the blue ones, "Because even after all that time in the sarcophagus, I see Danny right here, right now."

"Jack," Daniel pulled himself together, "Why are you making this so difficult? Why won't you give in?"

"Daniel, I don't believe this is what you want. That woman and the sarcophagus have your head so turned around, you have no idea what you want," Jack said, making further eye contact with Daniel. Even after a month in the mines, beaten and humiliated, tied up and stripped almost naked, Jack O'Neill was still a force to be reckoned with.

"I want you to be mine," Daniel managed to get out. His hands shook; he turned his back on Jack temporarily and went over to a tray beside the bed. He poured himself a glass of red wine, then he went back and stood over Jack. He took a sip of the wine, "It's always Sam isn't it?" He said bitterly.

Jack's brown eyes were filled with puzzlement, "I don't understand. She's the weakest link right now, if I don't count the fact that you think you're playing King for a Day. I'm just thinking about my team, what's best for every one. You said you'd let us go in the morning, then you bring me in here. What's up with you Daniel? What's so important about me? I'm just a beaten up old soldier with bad knees. Sam isn't interested in me."

A harsh laugh rose up in Daniel's throat, "Oh, I don't think that's quite the case do you? You do remember how when you got the Touched Virus last year Sam tried to jump your apparently ancient bones in the locker room? You're not so beaten up that she didn't think of you as the alpha male in the pack, did she?"

"That's just plain crazy!" Jack exclaimed, "I can't believe this is you talking. What do you want anyway?"

"Is it so crazy to believe that I want you?" Daniel responded with more bitterness in his tone.

Jack's brown eyes met his with a challenge, "So you're gay then?"

"I'm not a damned queer Jack, if that's what you're asking?" Daniel snarled back, "I just want to branch out, swing both ways, try something new on the other side of the street."

"Queer, well if that's your way of putting it, I don't know what the hell you're playing at. To me, men who love men are gay, Daniel," Jack responded stoutly, "There's no shame in that, and I'm surprised by your reaction to that question. The military policies in relation to gays are just politics, pure and simple. I've known lots of good soldiers who were gay, soldiers who have died for their country. No matter what the regulations say, it is possible. I'd always thought that it was me, not you, who was supposed to be the conservative one."

"Let's just say that little Danny had a bad time more than once in dealing with this problem. Foster homes, other foster kids, you figure it out!" Daniel snapped back him. 

Jack's dark eyes opened wider at that comment. Then he began to talk in a soft voice to Daniel. It was the same voice that Daniel had heard when Jack was trying to get a wild animal to take a piece of bread from his hand or talking to some half-starved cat. Daniel had seen him lure squirrels and raccoons dozens of times in his huge back lot behind his house on the edges of the city. People sometimes "dropped off" unwanted animals on the back roads on the outskirts of Colorado Springs where they were left to forage for themselves. There were so many cats that Jack had built a wooden bunkhouse that he kept stocked with cat food at all times of the year. There was also a "no kill shelter" that a friend of Jack's ran that took in stray dogs.

Despite his best efforts, Daniel found himself hypnotized by the lilt in Jack's voice, the voice of a man that couldn't even bear to see a small animal go hungry. "My friend Danny wouldn't tie me up like this. My friend Danny saved my life. I love him and he's my best friend. I promised him that I'd get his wife back, and I'm trying to do just that, even if there have been setbacks. And even if what you say is true, I still promised all those things to Danny. And I keep my promises. I care about my friends. You say that I care about Carter, and that's true I do care. But my friend Danny and I had a special friendship, and I wouldn't lay a finger on him unless I knew he was really okay with who and what he was. And that doesn't include using words like queer or being ashamed of being gay."

"Shut up, just shut up Jack!" Daniel gulped a glass of wine down hurriedly, "Danny isn't here to listen anymore. I killed him." He moved as far away as he could get from the other man to the room's most distant corner.

"No Danny's here," Jack continued on in a gentle tone, "Can't you hear him breathing, whispering to me?"

"What's he saying?" Daniel asked in anguish.

"He wants you to let me go." Jack told him, "Let me go! And I'll stay here with you. But not to seduce you or to listen to you rip yourself apart. I'll stay with you forever, if you ask me."

"I'm not a bloody fag, Jack!" Daniel voice screeched out in protest.

"Words like that one - fag. A fag is a piece of word used to burn gay people," Jack's voice went on dreamily, beyond Daniel's ability to be able to hear it. "You see Danny, words of hate. Words meant to eat out your soul. Just like that stinking sarcophagus!"

"Shut up, Jack," Daniel yelled.

"No, Danny I won't shut up. I won't let you do this to me or to yourself. You can promise that phony princess whatever you want tomorrow morning, but you and I are going home. I won't turn away from you because you hate yourself. I'm still here. I still care about you, no matter how little you care about yourself." Jack's voice suddenly stopped.

"I hate this," Daniel flung his glass into the corner where it lay broken, the left over red wine dripping down the walls. He moved back over to the bed, and tears began to dribble down his face, "Jack, I'm so confused. I don't know what to do. That woman thinks I'm going to marry her. I told her I would marry her. The sarc, it makes me feel so good. Better than I've ever felt before! I don't need my meds or my glasses. I feel like I belong here after I come out of it. I feel like I could conquer the world. I feel like I want to conquer the world with you at my side, but I'm not gay."

"Okay Danny, you're not gay," Jack's voice said obligingly, "But you don't need to conquer worlds to have me at your side."

Daniel threaded his fingers through Jack's graying hair. It was surprisingly soft and silky. He pushed the strands back from his friend's forehead. "I heard you say to one of the other SG team leaders that your hair had become grayer since you'd been dealing with Dr. Daniel Jackson," he said gravely.

Jack laughed, "A gray hair for every crazy stunt you've pulled. And this one's a doozie, Danny. Let me go, I won't hurt you, I promise. I won't hate you either. I'm not even mad."

"What you said about what I called myself..." Daniel began.

"We all have issues," Jack said fiercely, "Let me off this thing!" Daniel hesitated for a moment, and then he undid the locks and undid the leather handcuffs. Jack sat up and rubbed his wrists and undid the leather straps binding him feet to the cross. "Can you get this thing off the bed?" Jack asked directly, "Do you have the locks?"

"Yes." Daniel looked at his friend, his friend who still cared about him no matter what he'd done.

"Give them to me," Jack demanded. In a couple of moments, the St. Andrew's cross was off the bed and in a corner. Jack examined himself in the mirror, "I look like an over aged bar dancer in a men's club, very attractive!" He commented sarcastically to Daniel. Daniel's eyebrows went up, "I've seen a lot of things. I was even stationed in Hamburg for a while. I'm not exactly a choirboy, Daniel." 

Daniel looked down at the floor, "Jesus you must hate me," He crossed his arms in front of him, hugged himself and sat down on the bed, "I'm really sick. A total pervert." 

"I told you the sarcophagus would make you go dark side." Jack warned. He took a glass of red wine and tossed it back, and helped himself to the food. Then he stared at Daniel who was seated, mired in self-loathing.

Jack sat down beside Daniel, "If it makes you feel better, I don't think there's anything wrong with a little kink between consenting adults. It isn't really my thing, but it isn't evil either. It's doing things without consent I don't agree with." 

"Oh God!" Daniel began to shake, "What I nearly did, what I wanted to do. Damn," tears dripped from his eyes despite his best efforts to contain them, "and I'm not, I tell you, I'm not gay. I'm just so confused about all of this."

Jack moved closer to Daniel, "It's okay," he said roughly pulling Daniel into his arms tightly, "you don't have to be anything for anyone. You can be whoever you need to be. But I think you need to decide what you want to be for yourself." He smoothed the light brown hair with a tender hand. "Maybe it's time for you to visit one of those counselors that Janet Fraiser recommended." 

"I'm thirty-one and work for the USAF, I can't afford to be confused about this!" Daniel shook his head, as if he was trying to push away his emotions, "I can't be gay in this world."

"Daniel, I think you need to be yourself first," Jack said gently.

"How do I know you're telling me the truth Jack? Maybe, you're just trying to upset me. I don't want to feel these things," Daniel said in despair.

"Danny, are you in there?" Jack waited patiently for a response.

He thought he'd gotten rid of weak little Danny, but there he was again underneath all the time he'd spent in the sarc. In front of the others tomorrow, he knew that it was Danny who would swear that he was coming back to marry Shy'la, and that was why she'd believe him. Danny would always win out over good old Doctor Jackson. He'd fight and he'd bitch, and he might even try and hurt someone, but Danny wouldn't let him go there. It was Danny who Jack understood and trusted, and Danny who would lead him through the Stargate, back to Earth. He just didn't know how he'd put Daniel and Danny back together again, make them one whole and healed person, become who he was supposed to be.

"Yes Jack, Danny's here," he breathed. 

Jack inflated his cheeks and made a noisy breath, which could have passed for a sigh. He hesitated just for a split second, then his large hands with the long mobile fingers smoothed down Danny's hair and stroked his back. They were hands Daniel had watched doing many things, from cooking to killing, from dusting off his dead son Charlie's picture to smoothing out the down duvet in the spare bedroom. They were hands that liked to be part of the physicality of life, foraging around life's edges for the feel of a child's hand or touching a friend's shoulder. Daniel couldn't imagine Jack without this physicality, it was one of the things that drew him to the other man, desiring more than anything in the world to be the part of life that Jack was celebrating through the touch of his hand.

Jack's hands reached out, as he knew they would, and tightened their grip on his shoulder. "I know enough about life to know you need to feel things. That's what losing Charlie and coming back from Abydos did for me. I may seem to be Mr. Discipline to you, and I'm always yakking on about the right way to do things, but that's the Forces. There's a correct way to do everything. That's way they build you up. But I've lost a lot of things over my life, and I'm here to tell you if you live life according to other people's expectations, you get to the end of your life and find you've lived somebody else's life, not your own."

"How do you know that? How can I trust you?" Daniel felt the grasp he thought he had over his decision-making abilities fall away from him.

Jack was quiet for a moment, then he pushed Daniel back and looked him straight in the eye, "Because I'm your friend. Because I've had to think about whose life I was leading once upon a time. And now I know where I stand now." Jack said firmly, still holding him.

"What did you decide?" Daniel whispered into Jack's ear.

"That the important things, the big things are worth waiting for. That as much as I love my job, I'd give it all up in five seconds if it meant having more time with the people that I care about. That things aren't always as they seem to be," Jack stroked his friend's back again. They fell over sideways. Daniel blinked at him, realizing his plans had come to nothing and not caring.

"Are you waiting for Sam, Jack?" he asked in a small voice.

Jack laughed, "For crying out loud! For a scientist, you come to remarkable conclusions with insufficient data." 

"I'll tell Sam you said that," Daniel moved closer, their heads sharing the same pillow.

"And I'll shoot you if you do. She thinks I don't know what data is. And it works just fine that way." Jack's fingers gently stroked Daniel's face where the tracks of his tears had left marks, then withdrew it carefully, "I can sleep on the other side of the bed if you're uncomfortable," he added politely, showing no special inclination to move away from Daniel.

"No stay, I feel like I need the sarc! Stay with me until morning." Daniel's body shook with suppressed need. 

Jack pulled him tighter still and gazed over his head into the darkness. "What the hell am I going to do with you Daniel?" Jack mumbled into his hair. Daniel could think of several answers to that question, but it seemed that Danny had taken over again and he wasn't going to get what he wanted any time soon. Danny, despite the severe kicks that Daniel gave to him to remind him that he was a faggot, a sicko and generally weak, always won out where Jack was concerned. It was Danny who talked about how they'd play out their relative parts when they were dealing with Princess Shy'la and the others at the Stargate in the morning. It was also Danny who, in spite of the fact that Daniel told him that non-consensual sex with Jack was better than no sex at all, insisted that none of this meant anything without love. 

Jack whispered into Danny's hair that Shy'la was so sure of his addiction to the sarcophagus that it would never occur to her that he might betray her and not return to the planet. Believing in Jack as he did, Danny gave Jack back his BDU's and made sure the others didn't know about their night tryst. He followed him trustingly through the Stargate to the other side where he finally ended up in Fraiser's infirmary, tied down to a bed with leather straps after Daniel tried to escape through the Stargate and said some very cruel things to Captain Samantha Carter. 

Of course, Daniel was wily and violent like many addicts. He got loose, knocked Janet Fraiser out, then slammed the infirmary guard a number of times over the head and took the man's weapon. Unfortunately, Jack cornered him in a maintenance closet on level 21. It was at this point that the house of cards started to collapse. Daniel fired wildly at Jack, but Danny took over again. He cried like a girl in Jack's arms when Jack said to him, "I know what this is. I know what it's like. We can get through it."

With Jack's help, the team had worked out a schedule. Janet Fraiser had agreed to let Daniel recover from his addiction from the sarcophagus with around-the-clock surveillance by SG-1 in a VIP suite, instead of a room in the infirmary. Janet also arranged for an extra cot to be placed beside Daniel's bed, and for the security cameras to be turned off. The rationale behind this was that either Jack or Teal'c were in the room at all times, and Daniel had no chance of endangering either himself or others. 

Janet had also explained to General Hammond that because of Daniel's psychological problems, his embarrassment over his behavior once he recovered from his addiction could be debilitating. He, after all, had to work with the men and women on the base after all this was over. If Hammond suspected that Colonel Jack O'Neill cared for Dr. Daniel Jackson far more than he should, Hammond had obviously decided that he wouldn't ask about it so that he had nothing to tell. It was only much later that Daniel found out exactly how much Hammond knew or suspected. 

Due to his inability to stand by himself for any length of time as yet, Jack and Teal'c had put Daniel in a plastic chair in the shower earlier in the day, but now he was hot and sweaty again. He looked scruffy and unkempt, and was finding it difficult to shave and clean himself thoroughly. The first few days after the incident in the storage cupboard had been particularly unpleasant when he had to use the bathroom almost continuously, and vomited frequently and noisily after every meal. Gradually, he began to be able to hold small portions of food in his stomach and the cramps in his muscles and legs were slowly getting better during the day. However, the nights were still bad. 

Sam Carter only stopped by for short visits. As a result of overheating and perspiration, Daniel was finding it difficult not to strip down to his boxers. That wasn't a problem for the men, but Sam realized that Daniel found it embarrassing to have her there when he was half-dressed or in acute need of a shower. So, she only came by for short trips with his favorite chocolate walnut cookies or magazines. He thanked her for the cookies and farmed them out to Jack and Teal'c as he wasn't very hungry, even for chocolate. He couldn't even read his favorite books because he couldn't keep his mind on the text. The best he could manage were magazines with large color illustrations. 

At the present time, although the worst of the addiction was behind him, he was sweating profusely. He felt unkempt. It was the middle of the night. Jack O'Neill was sponging his face down with a cool cloth he kept in a basin by the bedside.

"I think I should have another shower," Daniel said. His upper lip was damp again and he felt twitchy.

"Isn't the cloth doing the job?" Jack asked him.

Daniel shivered, then his body made a small involuntary spasm, "I feel bad Jack. It hurts."

"Well, Fraiser said you could have some ibuprofen, but it isn't my impression that shoving you in the shower will do much for you. You're shivering now," Jack observed. He brought him a pill and water, and in a short time Daniel began to relax as the ibuprofen made his muscles ache less. 

"I'm cold, then I'm hot," Daniel complained, "I feel like I stink."

"Fraiser said that was perfectly normal. At least, this is more like the flu." Jack wiped Daniel's forehead with a cloth again, and then tucked the blanket back around him. He found Daniel's abandoned flannel pajama top, and helped him into it.

"I hate putting everybody out like this," Daniel whined.

"Don't worry, you're the world's worst patient," Jack assured him with a twinkle in his dark eyes.

"You and Teal'c are worse than two mothers," Daniel said, "Definitely worse than Fraiser."

"So, you'd rather be tied down in the infirmary with leather straps? Surely, we could arrange for something more diverting to be done with leather straps than just tying you down? We could bring back that St. Andrew's Cross back from Shy'la's planet or something." As the brown eyes met his, Daniel felt a faint spark of something deep inside. The cloth did feel good - cooling - and Jack had a surprisingly gentle hand. He gave into the sensations. It was just that he couldn't remember being this close to anyone since his parents had died. It was almost frightening.

"No one's ever taken care of me like this," Daniel said quietly.

"I told you, I'm here for you," Jack commented gently.

"Who was there for you Jack, when you had this problem?" Daniel asked him.

"That's not what we were talking about," Jack said gruffly. In the maintenance closet on level 21, just down the hall from the infirmary, Jack said to Daniel that he understood what Daniel was going through and in Daniel's mind that only meant one thing. 

"So Jack? Was it in jail in Iraq, is that where it happened?" Daniel asked him, "How did you come to be in jail in Iraq in the first place?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders, casting away pity, "Aw, Danny you don't want hear about my old problems." Daniel was still exhausted, having been only able to keep down a small portion of his food in his stomach. 

"Yeah, Jack," Daniel said simply, "I do want to hear about it. I'm tired of being the only entertainment around here. It's always crazy Daniel this, nutty Daniel that. I'd like to hear about anything but me. And just because I'm a little crazy doesn't mean I don't get it. Just because it's hard for me to be physically close, doesn't mean I don't like to share stories, hear about stuff."

Jack smiled slightly, "I'm the opposite. You know, this talking stuff is hard but being close is easy. I've talked about it before, you know. Like with the shrinks and everyone," Jack rolled his eyes heavenward, "If you get bored, just tell me to shut up okay."

"I think I'll survive the ordeal," Daniel said dryly.

"Sara didn't like this story," Jack said warningly.

"Do I look like Sara?" Daniel asked. Jack's brown eyes became luminous with feeling, and he stretched out his hand, and he touched Daniel's arm very gently.

"No, no you don't. Well, okay don't say I didn't warn you. Well, it was a Special Ops Mission to Iraq, you know, before the Gulf War, before Kuwait and everything. It was supposed to be one of these in and out missions. I was the pilot. I used to be a pretty good pilot."

"More than pretty good, I'd guess," Daniel interrupted.

Jack flushed with embarrassment, "Who's telling this story, you or me? So, there we were flying into Iraq under radar. It was the summer of '81. And I don't have to tell you how hotter than hell it was at that time of year. You've done Egypt in the summer, you know. Well, our intel wasn't much good. I had to land my plane in the dark, and it was on rocky terrain. That pretty much took out the left wing. No one was hurt, you understand. It was just a rocky ride. But then we had to get to the lab, which was further than we'd originally planned."

"Lab? What were they making?" Daniel shifted in his bed.

Jack sighed. He got some cool water for Daniel while he was telling his story. "Well, it's no great secret now. There was even a show on PBS about it, although I think you and I are the only ones who watch PBS. And that's only because you insist!"

"Not the only ones," Daniel protested, "Go on, I want to hear the story."

"All right, yeah sure you betcha. So we had to fly in under radar. The Iraqis had this bio-lab with lots of bad stuff - smallpox, Ebola fever, a virulent strain of the Spanish flu, you know the one that killed thousands during World War I, the bubonic plague. You name it they had it. So, the WHO had destroyed most of our stock of the smallpox virus and that was what all other countries were supposed to have done as well! But as we all know now, the Russians didn't do that. In fact, they made genetic recombinations of different strains of smallpox that were more virulent. Then, they sold this stuff to the Iraqis at deep discounts because they were desperate for cash, and the Iraqis had lots of cash and only the weapons that we'd sell to them. That was a problem for us, and that's what we were sent in to get. Remember this was before Kuwait and all that fun in the Gulf."

"So, go on," Daniel urged.

"Okay, like I said the plane was knocked out after the landing. So, we were going to have to get the stuff and hoof it back to a secondary assigned pick up location near the border. We still had radio contact. Taking out the bio-lab wasn't going to be much of a problem because the place was really poorly guarded - just a couple of guards and two scientists. We'd only found out about the place quite by accident through an in-country spook that accidentally ran across it. So, we had enough people for the mission and to take care of the guards. We also had instructions to kill the scientists in the place."

"Why?" Daniel shivered and Jack pulled up the blanket over Daniel a little more. 

"And you wanted a shower," Jack told him.

"Yeah, yeah," Daniel snuggled down, "Why were you supposed to kill the scientists?"

"Because they were experts in this field, totally loyal to the Iraqis. They were making all kinds of biohazardous materials. They'd already used some of this stuff on the Iranians in the war. So, those were our instructions," Jack said awkwardly, "Anyway Danny, these guys knew exactly what they were doing. They were no innocents."

"I understand," Daniel touched Jack's hand, "Go on." 

"Well, everything went according to plan." Jack continued, "Frank Cromwell was heading the mission. So, there were three other guys in addition to myself. One of them was a guy I'd worked with a number of times. He was on loan from Special Branch in Britain, and he was an expert in biohazardous materials. His name was Alan Peters; he was a funny, funny guy. God, he could make me laugh so hard. Tall, broad shoulders, light brown hair, nice gray eyes, strong, from Manchester I think." 

"My friend Sarah Gardner was from Manchester," Daniel commented inconsequentially.

"Do you want to hear this story or not?" Jack demanded.

"No, I want to hear it," Daniel settled down under the covers and smiled at Jack, "I was just telling you."

"Okay Alan was there. He was a good guy, really smart just like you. He'd even been to Oxford and everything! He was an expert on bio-weapons, and I'd worked with him on a number of occasions. He spoke Farsi, Russian, Arabic and a bunch of languages of other languages."

"So, your friend was a spook," Daniel guessed, "I thought you hated spooks."

Jack looked startled, "Well generally I do, but Alan was different. Maybe, it's the English thing, I don't know. Everything went according to plan until we got inside and found a third guy who wasn't supposed to be there. He was some kind of government official. He running around loose in the facility, and we didn't know it. We got to the place where the stuff was. If you can believe it, it was just in test tubes in an ordinary looking old-fashioned refrigerator with a handle. Anyone could've taken the stuff. There it was with peeling Russian labels with "Typhus" or "Smallpox " or whatever written on the side. It was enough to spook you for life. So, we got the smallpox, and Cromwell was putting it into a special case for protection. And then this guy broke in, guns blazing, shooting all over the place. I was on the other side of the room with Cromwell. Alan was beside the fridge. He was holding a test tube one minute and then it was broken in the gunfire. And he'd had been shot in the knee. The bullet had just missed the femoral artery, and it was bad enough that he was going to be really hard to move."

"So, what was in it, the test tube that was broken?" Daniel's voice was almost a whisper. Jack's eyes had gone black as he retold his tale, his eyes dim with far-off remembrances.

He seemed far away momentarily, his mind replaying images from the past. He shook himself, "Oh yeah, it was the Spanish flu, a really virulent strain," Jack's voice was heavy with emotion, a tear dribbled down one cheek, "Aw damn, I always do this when I tell this story. Crap."

"It's okay," Daniel reached out to Jack again. Daniel was chary with his touches, but the occasion seemed to warrant it. He wished that he could do so much more.

"Yeah, I know." Jack shook his head, and swiped at his cheek defiantly. "Frank Cromwell and the others, they were just scared shitless. They were on the other side of the room when this happened, and they just bailed out. But I couldn't just leave him there."

"They left you behind?" Daniel asked appalled, "Knowing that you were perfectly all right."

"Yeah but once I moved over to other side of the room where Alan was, all bets were off!" Jack moved his hand, "Alan was bleeding badly from his wound. It was around his knee, he couldn't have walked without help. And they all ran for the door. I did everything I could. What was I going to do? By then, the virus was all over me too. I figured at the time we didn't have long. The next thing I knew, some Iraqi guards had turned up in a jeep. Even they were shit-scared to touch us as well. They stood at the door with their weapons drawn. And then these guys turned up in biohazard suits. They took us off in a panel van. We were thrown in a cell together. Everyday, some guys in biohazard suits would turn up and give us morphine shots for the pain, I guess. The day after we'd been apprehended, Alan started to get really sick. He just got sicker and sicker, and then when I didn't think he could get any sicker he got sicker still. His hair came out by the handfuls. His head ached and he started having hallucinations, and the shakes. They shoved food in the cell for us, but they were generally too frightened to clean it up at all. Fortunately, there was a toilet, but we were still pretty dirty. Alan lasted for two weeks and then he died. They left me alone with him for two days before they took him away. I guess they were just as shit-scared as Cromwell."

"That's horrible Jack," Daniel shuddered.

"Well, I did warn you it wasn't pretty," Jack reiterated.

"I know, but still. Didn't you get sick?" Daniel asked him.

Jack's laugh was flat and mirthless, "Well, that's the best part, you see. It appears that I'm immune to the Spanish flu. My great-grandfather had it in 1919 in Chicago, and didn't die, and my great grandmother nursed him through it. She never caught it. So you see Daniel, sick people don't upset me any more. Alan was sicker than anyone I've ever seen, and all I had to help him with was water. After Alan died, however, I was addicted to the morphine. But I didn't have any choice about going cold turkey. They just stopped giving it to me. Then, after I was over the morphine addiction, they threw me in a prison cell with a bunch of other prisoners. That was where I learned to show no weakness. Fortunately, I was stronger than most of the prisoners so I didn't have to bend over and take it up the ass too often."

"Jesus Jack," Daniel's eyes sought out Jack's face. He felt his own his eyes harden in anger over Jack's ordeal. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay Daniel! I've dealt with this stuff at a whole bunch of therapy sessions afterward. This was before I married Sara." Jack O'Neill maintained the outward appearance of dispassion, despite the emotional nature of the topic. Daniel wondered to himself how much that dispassion, that emotional control, had cost his friend.

"I'm just surprised that you aren't angrier about it!" Daniel exclaimed.

Jack shrugged, "It's the order of things in a men's prison. I understand that now. Not all men, even in prison, hurt other men when they fuck them," A glint of something hidden in the depth of Jack's dark chocolate eyes appeared and was gone. "There was this guy who wanted me, but he didn't hurt me."

"He didn't rape you?" Daniel asked, his eyes narrowing.

The look on Jack's face said to Daniel that he'd already made a summation of his friend's prejudices with regard to sexual acts that involved two men. After all, Daniel realized, Jack had no way of knowing that he'd ever been with a man in the past. Some of things Daniel had said to Jack about being gay on Shy'la planet made him feel ashamed, but that didn't make them any the less true. He felt that that his anxiety disorder already made him feel vulnerable, and didn't want to feel any more vulnerable. Sometimes, he wanted to be like the simple, normal people he saw when he went to shopping malls, the people with the 2.3 children and the mini-van. He was tired, so tired, of being special - brilliant, strange and different all at once. 

No matter what Jack said to him about his own past, Jack had had that experience. That normalcy. He'd had the wife, the child and the house in the suburbs. Just as this thought occurred to him, however, he saw with instant clarity that none of these things had managed to bring Jack any happiness. Charlie had died with Jack's own gun, and as Jack had told him once, he would never forgive himself. His wife had walked away, and now had a new life. Jack had sold his house in the suburbs and moved further out of town, further away from the life that he'd once embraced. Or had he? The more Daniel knew about Jack O'Neill, the more he understood that he didn't know him at all. Daniel looked up at Jack's brown eyes, trying to show complete acceptance and trust on his face.

Jack spoke softly, feeling his way gently around this sensitive topic. "I was an attractive youngish guy at the time, strong, not big. Let's just say, the man I was involved with didn't want me damaged. And he didn't give me any diseases I can't talk about in public, and I bear him no ill will. That's just the way it is! We came to an agreement. I didn't fight too hard, and he didn't hurt me. He was the head honcho in the place. As long as he had me, no other man in that prison would dare touch me. And I really really didn't want to be gang-banged by every prisoner in the joint. This wasn't about love Daniel; it was about power. But I would be less than truthful if I didn't say that Vartan didn't teach me a great deal about people."

"He was Turkish?" Daniel asked.

"He was Armenian, but he spoke Turkish, Arabic, Farsi, French, a bunch of other languages. Vartan was a citizen of the world. He ran that prison like other men run a business." Jack shook his head and smiled, "He just couldn't keep his hands off a tall young, American flyboy. It was too much of a temptation. He had contacts on the outside; he made sure that I got out of there."

Daniel's eyebrows went up, "So he really liked you!"

"What's not to like?" Jack's left eyebrow shot up. " So, are you disgusted, Daniel?"

"Hell, no Jack. You did what you had to do, in a bad situation. So, why was Vartan in jail?" 

"Oh ah," Jack said with a hint of laughter in his voice, "he was caught dealing in stolen antiquities. He's back in 'Bulis doing the same thing at this very moment. Maybe, we'll visit him there one day."

"I didn't realize that you knew that Istanbul was called 'Bulis in Turkish," Daniel commented.

"In old Ottoman Turk," Jack corrected his friend, "It's what Anatolian Armenians speak. But I think you should go to sleep."

"Doesn't matter about Vartan," Daniel said sleepily, stretching out his hand and capturing Jack's, "What was his last name?"

"Aslanian," Jack squeezed his hand, "Go to sleep."

"Aslanian," Daniel said as he drifted off with Jack's hand in his own, "It means lion person."

Early in the hours of the morning, Teal'c arrived. Daniel caught Jack and Teal'c passing meaningful glances between them, and some half-whispered discussion about something Teal'c referred to as "the warrior bond." Jack, in his turn, seemed to have confided some profound secret to Teal'c who he knew would honor his trust. He picked up bits and pieces of a story about Bray'tac and some other man. The two men, according to Teal'c, had been closer than Jonathan and David, illustrating that Teal'c had been busy with the Gideon's Bible in his room, absorbing its stories to give Jack the appropriate analogies. Daniel noticed too that occasionally Teal'c patted Jack's shoulder as if he were giving him encouragement about something that was bothering him. 

When he woke up later that morning, Teal'c was sitting reading by his bedside and Jack was gone.

"Where's Jack?" Daniel demanded.

Teal'c gave him his usual imperturbable glance before putting a bookmark into the book called "High Intensity" by Belle Reilly. "He was sent home for a period of not less than 24 hours by Dr. Janet Fraiser because she reported that he was suffering from exhaustion. She said that you were well enough to have a shower on your own, and that you were to meet with Dr. Louis Mackenzie as soon as you were ready."

"Where'd you get the book?" Daniel asked getting himself up.

"It was kindly loaned to me by a female MP, the tall one who guards your door at night. Her name is Sergeant Carrie Hayes, I believe. It is a romance about climbing Mount Everest, and it is highly realistic. I have borrowed a number of works on this subject from Captain Samantha Carter who, as you know, is also a climber. I am, however, fascinated by interplay of romance and climbing offered by this novel." Teal put the book aside.

"So you'll lend it to Sam after you've finished it?" Daniel asked as Teal'c helped him from the bed into the shower.

"No," Teal'c said gravely, "Sergeant Hayes trusts me not to do that. She is an old associate of O'Neill's from the Gulf War. She was an MP there as well. I do not think the two protagonists would satisfy Captain Carter's desire for romance."

"Why not?" Daniel demanded.

"Because, Daniel Jackson, they are both women. Major Carter would neither appreciate nor like this novel. She might even report Carrie Hayes to General Hammond, which would be an unfortunate dilemma," Teal'c said simply. He watched Daniel carefully, and satisfied that he was well enough to manage on his own, allowed to him to continue with his morning ablutions. 

"You seem to enjoy reading romances Teal'c," Daniel said to Teal'c through the door.

"I enjoy variety in my romance reading." Teal'c told him with a straight face, "The simple so-called bodice ripper with a bold adventurous man and a spirited female has a certain charm, but lacks variety. I enjoy your westerns for their descriptions of male bonding, but they do not go far enough. There is no sexual bonding between the men, which makes them disappointing because they don't fully explore the depths of the warrior bond. This is the first unconventional romance that I've read, and thus far it has proved most engaging. I was beginning to despair that all human books only described people involved in the most conventional sexual arrangements."

Daniel moved into the shower area, and he could see Teal'c had opened the door and was surreptiously watching him, probably to ensure that he was still all right in the bathroom by himself. Up until today, both Jack and Teal'c had been less reticent about coming into the bathroom with him because Daniel had been unable to wash himself properly without help due to his long recovery from the sarcophagus addiction. "I had no idea you had such a strong interest in human romance Teal'c," Daniel said, keeping up his end of the conversation, "Where do you get these books?" 

"Dr. Fraiser has kept me supplied with the bodice-rippers. She also has a vast collection of westerns in her personal collection which once belonged to her father." Teal'c informed him, "She lends them to me when I go over there for dinner with O'Neill. I often stay and discuss the books with her after O'Neill goes home," Teal'c informed him.

Leaning over as he opened the shower door, Daniel snagged a towel from the towel bar and wrapped it securely around his waist. Much to his embarrassment, Teal'c was examining his muscle structure carefully. "So, you stay over night with Janet, Teal'c?" Daniel asked to divert Teal'c gaze from an inspection of his body.

"Indeed, I do Daniel Jackson," Teal'c pronounced with care, "She is a beautiful woman. You do not disapprove I hope? You and I had worked hard at building your own body before this unfortunate incident with the sarcophagus." He looked intently at Daniel's shoulders that had lost some of their muscle tone, "We will need to redouble our efforts in the gym as soon as you are well, although O'Neill has indicated that he likes you as he finds you." Teal'c gave Daniel a slightly intimidating smile.

Daniel shook his shaggy head, "I think Jack just wants to make sure that he's stronger than me."

Teal'c inclined his head in disagreement, "I do not think that had entered into his calculations. Indeed, it is my observation that O'Neill is very strong and wiry despite his frame. He cares deeply about your welfare, as you well know. You should dress to meet Dr. Mackenzie. Janet Fraiser made me promise to take you to the infirmary. Mackenzie has arranged to meet with you in a room there."

As Daniel recovered from his addiction, Dr. Janet Fraiser had told him that he was going to have to come to terms with his problems if he was going to keep working at the SGC. For that reason, she'd sent for Dr. Mackenzie, the head psychiatrist at the base hospital in Colorado Springs to talk to him. Daniel was very unhappy about this development, and tried talking to General Hammond about it. Unfortunately, Hammond also insisted that Daniel needed to see a psychiatrist before he returned to active duty.

Thus, fifteen minutes later Daniel found himself seated opposite Dr. Mackenzie. After all of his experiences with social workers and psychiatrists throughout his lifetime, Daniel was profoundly uncomfortable with this intrusion into his life. Mackenzie spoke to him quietly for about fifteen minutes about his experience with the sarcophagus, and then returned to the very subject Daniel had no special wish to discuss, Jack O'Neill.

"So," Mackenzie said, "Tell me how you feel about Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"Why?" Daniel responded, feeling his back straighten immediately.

"Do you blame Colonel O'Neill for the kidnapping of your wife and for the failure to get her back?" Mackenzie pursued.

"No I don't blame him," Daniel twitched uncomfortably in his chair, glaring at the clock that faced the psychiatrist. "I was the one who opened the Stargate and unburied it."

"So you blame yourself?" Mackenzie asked him.

"Yes, no," Daniel shook his head, "I don't know. Maybe, a little bit. Shau'ri and I had our problems, but we were working them out."

Mackenzie's eyebrows went up, "Really what problems were those? Married to a beautiful woman who," he consulted his file, "was given to you as a present. Not too many expectations there, are there? But of course you were off your medications at the time."

"Yes I was," Daniel said directly, " Look I'll be honest with you. I don't like where this is going."

"As long as you're being honest with me," Mackenzie slapped the file beside him shut with an exasperated noise, then leaned forward in his chair, putting his body closer to his patient, "Daniel, let's be frank. You've been to a legion of psychiatrists in your lifetime, and anxiety disorder isn't exactly my field of expertise. In the normal course of things in the Forces, someone with your psychological problems would've been put on disability long ago. And you have internal issues that are, to be blunt, a mile wide. In fact I feel that your whole team has attachment issues with regard to your leader, O'Neill. We normally encourage detachment so that there won't be problems with the chain of command in the field. However, the SGC isn't a normal command, and SG-1 is bound together like a family."

"Nothing," Daniel said vehemently, "has ever happened between with Jack and me that could be considered fraternization!"

Mackenzie's smile, which rarely got a workout, emerged hesitantly at Daniel's words. He cleared his throat, "Well, you're a civilian. Even if it had, I'd have no right to ask you about it. Neither can I expect you to abide by military rules governing sexual rules of conduct. That being said, I'm going to send you to someone who can help you deal with any issues regarding your marriage and whatever other issues you want to talk about."

"I take it I don't have any choice about going to this doctor? Is he going to report back to the Air Force on whatever I have to say to him?" Daniel asked with some irritation.

"Let me be clear. Going to a recommended therapist is a necessary condition of your re-joining SG-1 at any time in the future. Dr. Fraiser has made her views on this eminently clear. However, whatever happens between you and Dr. Richler is absolutely confidential. You are very lucky that you were able to get an appointment time. It's a private practice, and Dr. Richler takes very few patients." Mackenzie scribbled an address on a piece of paper. "You are expected every Tuesday and Friday morning at 9:00 AM."

"That'll interfere with my work here," Daniel objected.

Mackenzie's shrewd eyes met Daniel's, "It won't be a problem. Colonel O'Neill and General Hammond have both been apprised of the situation." He handed Daniel a small square of paper with an address on it, "Good luck Daniel." He was summarily dismissed. 

Daniel left Mackenzie, feeling furious and powerless. He immediately went to Janet Fraiser to speak to her about the situation, hoping that she might see reason. 

"What the hell did you tell Mackenzie about me?" He demanded in irritation as he cornered Janet Fraiser in her laboratory.

"Nothing but the truth Daniel," she replied imperturbably, "You should consider yourself lucky to get an appointment with Dr. Richler."

"Thanks a bunch," he said sarcastically. "Yeah sure, you betcha." 

"Don't even think about going back to your office to work until you see the doctor tomorrow," she said firmly.

"I don't want to go to see any more psychiatrists, Janet," panic appeared in Daniel's voice.

"Well, that's too bad Daniel because that's exactly what you're going to do! I told you that I'd reserve judgment on this issue, and my judgment is that you should go!" Janet Fraiser stopped her work and gave him a stone-faced stare.

"No Janet, I'm really serious about this," Daniel said, "I don't want to go."

Janet's large eyes met his, "Really Daniel, because I'm serious too. You're going whether you like it or not."

He started to open his mouth when the voice of Jack O'Neill interrupted him. Jack was standing propped up by the doorframe, "Aw, Daniel. Leave the Doc alone; she's just doing her job. I'll drive you there tomorrow morning."

"And here is another patient who is so good at following orders." Janet said lightly, "I thought I told you at least 24 hours before you came back to the base."

Jack O'Neill shuffled his feet and gave her his most beguiling glance. "I just thought I'd make sure that Daniel makes it to that doctor's appointment tomorrow morning. He's not really fit to drive yet."

Janet laughed, "Right, you are such a total pest, O'Neill. Don't give me those lost puppy eyes, they don't work on me!"

"And I thought I'd just take Danny home and feed him my famous Chicken Fricassee and salad. He can sleep in my spare room tonight and I'll take him to see the shrink in the morning." Jack's brown eyes had become as smooth as soft velvet pansies, and he flitted his eyelashes at Janet.

"You're a terrible man," Janet blushed and waved an admonishing finger at O'Neill, "All right Mr. Butter Wouldn't Melt In My Mouth, I'm trusting you again. I trusted you and Teal'c to get Daniel weaned off that sarcophagus, and you did it. I'll trust you again. Just make sure he'd really is there and on time, tomorrow morning."

"You're a doll," Jack kissed the side of her face, "Or so I hear from a reliable source."

"Get out of here, go on," Janet said gruffly, "Before I change my mind."

Before Daniel knew what had happened, he was sitting in Jack's black truck with the heater toasting his feet. Next he was at Jack's house, being fed some chicken dish that was rich, but delicious. There were even vegetables, salad and cooked rice pudding for dessert. Then he was installed in front of the television set while some hockey game blared. Every now and then, he'd wake up and watch Jack scowling as the score for the Avalanche spiraled into slow slide and they ended up in ignominious defeat at the hands of the Calgary Flames. 

Sleepy and sated, he woke up in the spare bedroom with no memory of how he got there at all. He was lying back on the bed with his clothes on, "How did I get here?" he asked Jack who was standing over him.

"I carried you," Jack told him, "There are pajamas on the bed beside you. Do you need any help getting undressed?"

"I've been managing by myself all these years," Daniel said quickly. That was all he needed, Jack O'Neill undressing him. Then he'd show Jack exactly how he really felt about him in living color. That would be just great!

"I know Danny, but you've been sick," Jack said defensively, looking in the other direction.

"I'll manage, Jack." Daniel sat up and shook himself awake, "Good night." Daniel managed to toss his clothes onto the floor, left his boxers on, dragged the flannel pajama top onto his body but failed to button it and pushed his legs under the bedclothes without pushing pack the bedspread and fell immediately asleep. 

In the morning, Daniel realized that Jack must have come back into the room while he was sleeping. Jack could move so quietly that you'd didn't know that he was there until he was practically on top of you. Daniel's clothes had been neatly folded over the chair, and a clean pair of underwear was on the top of the pile. The clock beside the bed said that it was seven thirty, and Jack was standing beside the bed holding a cup of coffee.

"Hey, good morning big guy! Janet didn't say you could have this stuff, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her I gave it to you," Jack passed the coffee over to Daniel. Daniel beamed at the sight of his favorite beverage, and began to slurp it before speaking a word. Suddenly, he stopped and glanced up shyly at Jack.

"Thanks Jack, I promise. Not a word to Janet," then he redirected his efforts to the cup in his hand, "By the way, this is pretty good coffee."

"Well, there's more in the kitchen. And it wouldn't hurt if you tried to eat something either." Jack told him, "I'm in my back room, paying some bills. Whenever you're ready to leave, come and get me."

An hour and a half later, he was sitting restlessly in the waiting room of his psychiatrist's office on the tenth floor of a downtown office building. The assortment of journals in the outer office, recent issues of Architectural Digest, The New Yorker, The Village Voice and The Advocate disposed Daniel to feel more at home in the office. Jack grabbed an issue of The Village Voice that contained a long article on David Levitt, "The Legacy of Foucault" and the sex lives of the women on Sex and the City. Right, Daniel thought, I can just imagine what Jack's reading. He watched with amusement as Jack raised his eyebrows as he worked his way through the paper. He tried leafing through a back issue of Architectural Digest, but found it impossible to concentrate on the color photographs. He was too nervous.

The door opened and a tall woman with a wad of tissues in front of her face barreled out of the office. Her eyes were reddened from crying and she was sniffling. She had very short hair and gave Daniel a hostile glance before leaving the office hurriedly. The door slammed shut behind her. Jack raised his eyes from his newspaper and gave Daniel an encouraging smile. Daniel glanced up at the office door that had just opened. A short middle-aged woman was in the doorway with the light behind her. Her eyes scanned the office with intent.

"Dr. Daniel Jackson, I'm Dr. Anna Richler." she stood in front of him with her hand extended. Her voice had an overtone of a German accent.

He felt she had the advantage over him, "You are German," he guessed from her voice, "You are from..."

"You will find I speak German with a Berlin accent. My family were from Berlin," her voice took on a faint hint of superiority. "But," her eyes sparked faintly, "My family left Germany in thirty-seven. We only returned to Germany after the War, but it was impossible to remain. Is this a problem for you?" Her dark eyes came to rest on his face with a look of challenge.

"I'm sorry, I'm a linguist. Voices interest me," He said apologetically.

"Yes I see," She pushed back her black and silver hair back behind her ears, "You are a friend of Dr. Jackson's?" Her glance took in Jack who had lowered his newspaper and was viewing her with interest.

"Hey," Jack extended his hand, "I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"Dr. Richler," she said politely, "Is Jack coming in with you Daniel?"

Daniel felt his face flare with sudden heat, "Oh no, he's just my friend. He's waiting for me." 

She smiled politely; her teeth were even and white and showed the effects of the best of North American dental care. She was dressed immaculately in a tailored gray woman's suit, "Yes I see," she replied. Her dark eyes looked through Jack as though they'd immediately grasped the essence of what Jack meant to Daniel. Her full lips smiled at Jack before she shut the door, and turned to her desk. 

It was a comfortable office, with heavy furnishings in mahogany, dark green velvet drapes, solid brass lamps and deep comfortable dark red leather chairs. She gestured at one of the chairs with her hand. Then she moved over to her desk and swiveled her black leather desk chair to face him. Behind her, files were sorted into various neat piles. Glancing at one with a large green label and a date that was close to her desk, he noticed his name in neat letters on the top right hand corner. She picked up her reading glasses from her desk and viewed it cursorily.

"May I see my file?" he requested holding out a hand.

She rested her back against the chair; he noticed that the chair was adjusted to make up for her height that couldn't have been much more than five feet. She was probably in her late fifties or early sixties and slightly stout. She reminded him of a grandmother he'd never had, although there was something about her that was more fearsome than his own grandfather, Nick. Her liquid eyes met his, humor glinting in their depths. "You have a problem with control Daniel? You feel a need to know everything immediately? Will it help you, do you think?"

"Yes, no." Daniel drew his arms up around himself, holding himself tight, "If you've read my file, you know I'm not here of my own volition."

"Yes, that is quite true and naturally after years of social workers and doctors you are not happy about this. But this need not necessarily be a bad experience for you, unless that's what you want," Her arms were lay loosely on the sides of her chair in a gesture of openness, but she said nothing.

"I can come here twice a week and say absolutely nothing to you at all!" he said defiantly.

Of course, that's your privilege," she said softly drawing her glasses off, "But I thought we might begin by discussing your missing wife, Shau'ri."

"That's in my file?" he asked her, astonished.

"It would hardly be useful for you to speak to me if I didn't have a full understanding of your problems," she pointed out.

"You have security clearances," he said in astonishment, "Just exactly who are you?"

She drew in a deep breath, "I took my degree in Medicine in San Francisco at the University of California at Berkeley in the late 1950's, and later I trained as an analyst. I was hired by the government and for a number of years, I worked for the government in Berlin, interviewing people who came over the wall."

"A spook?" He asked her.

"An interrogator if you will." She tilted her head, "I speak German, Russian and French fluently. My skills were used in ascertaining the truth when it was necessary. I've worked with people in a number of sensitive areas, including the Stargate program. My special area of expertise for the past twenty years has been working in all areas that pertain to human sexuality."

"To ferret out gays in the military," his eyes narrowed in distrust.

She shook her head, "No, I have no interest in as you call it ferreting out gays or reporting them. I work to help people achieve greater satisfaction in their personal lives, to help them learn to accept themselves. I'm not directly employed by the military any longer. Since the wall has come down, I have no direct interest in working with any government."

"Are your interests always so personal?" he asked her.

She laughed, "Haven't you heard, Daniel the personal is political? So," she smiled at him, "Perhaps, you can explain to me how it is that a young man of your education and intelligence comes to marry a wife who was given to him as a present."

"Would you believe me if I told you that it was love at first sight?" he gave her his most charming smile and sat back in his chair watching her face.

"Perhaps," her eyes seemed full of doubt, "Or your relationship to the man in the waiting room?" 

"Jack," he met her eyes, "He's my best friend."

"All right, so what do you want to achieve from these sessions, Daniel?" She tilted herself back slightly, waiting for his response.

"I want people to leave me alone." She was still. "I want people to believe me that I'm able to take care of myself," he said, "So then they'll leave me alone."

"How are the voices?" She asked without looking up.

"Much better now that my medication is stable," He said automatically.

"And they are still inside your head according to Dr. Mackenzie, not outside," Her eyes lifted from the page momentarily. "They're not appearing on your television or giving you directives from outside. And they're not people you actually recognize who are speaking to you."

"No, they're inside my head. They resemble the voices of people I've known, but they're really just a generalized voice of criticism," He reported to her, "And they've been absent lately." 

"I see. Well, that's good. And there was some dissociation in your file," he looked down at the red and blue Turkish rug on the floor. "Daniel?" There was an open question contained in her voice.

He glanced up at her clear eyes, "Yeah, I know what you're talking about. No, it was stupid to talk about Daniel and Danny. It was the sarc," he mumbled. He was bent over, looking down into his lap where hands lay motionless. He raised his eyes. She was still and silent, watching his face as different expressions washed over its surface.

She was very close; he could smell the essence of carnations from her soap - Oeillet Mignardise, carnations - it was made by Roger & Gallet in Paris. Sarah Gardner used to buy it. He glanced up into her eyes and noticed that although they were dark, they were completely unlike Jack's soft chocolate brown; they were a greenish brown, like the color of a forest brook. She said something, but he allowed his mind to wander in order to distract himself from her question. All eyes are unique, he said to himself, that's why they're used for recognition. Special access to special rooms, just like all the rooms in my mind. She wants the key, but the keys were lost and he'd never find them again. He was suddenly aware that she'd addressed him twice about the same question. "About Daniel and Danny, are they the same person?" She repeated the question and waited for an answer.

"I'm not crazy if that's what you mean," he said very carefully staring at the designs in the carpet, "I know I'm both Danny and Daniel, it's just that I prefer being Daniel more than Danny. He seems more capable and less emotional. So, do you think I'm normal?"

"I think normal is 98.6 and even that fluctuates from time to time, from person to person." He looked at her face. Once upon a time, she might have been what could pass for pretty, but he didn't think that would matter much to her. Her manner was brisk and reassuringly business-like, "Well," she told him, "But that doesn't mean that we don't have our work cut out for us then. Let's start with the death of your parents when you were eight." He looked up and saw her steely-eyed glance. He could hear his heart beating, hard and fast in the centre of his chest. His mouth was dry. Then he began to talk, the tale of his life's experiences expanding to fill in his allotted time until he stopped and finally drew a breath. 

He'd cried briefly about his parents, but he'd felt sure that Richler knew the score on that subject. Anytime that he mentioned his parents, he could make himself cry. He'd done it so many times with so many social workers that this response was almost automatically conditioned. With professional detachment, she moved on to other parts of his life. He had to give her credit; she wasn't easily distracted by story of the hideous accident involving his parents, and pushed past it into other less comfortable territories that he preferred not to explore. With practiced ease, she guided him into the shoals of his life with different foster families until they finally reached his memories of Joanne Kingsley's house and Jimmy Reed. 

"And so, Joanne Kingsley wasn't it? What do you remember?" she probed. There was silence for a moment as he confessed to her about the blank hole in his past.

"There is nothing?" she asked him again.

"I remember doing homework for Jimmy sometimes. And school, I remember most of what I learned in school. And the end when the social workers arrived." he stalled.

"What do you remember about Ray Chauncey?" She said bluntly.

"Nothing."

"The color of his hair, his face, his eyes, you know nothing about them?" She said as she explored further.

"I tell you I don't remember anything, not even what color of eyes he had!" Daniel shouted in exasperation, "Why do you keep asking?"

She nodded thoughtfully and changed the topic. It seemed to him however that just as things were picking up, his time was finally over. He felt an odd sense of anti-climax. She handed him a card, and explained what the procedure was if his appointment times needed to be changed because of his schedule.

"So that's it then?" He glanced up at her face that revealed nothing to him.

"We've done good work for one day," she pushed her chair back, "I've got a lot of background information. It's an excellent beginning."

"Why don't I feel better?" He felt that he was whining like a child who had expected instant gratification. 

She met his eyes thoughtfully, "I thought you were trying to avoid having feelings, Daniel. Maybe next time, you should tell me about things you do to feel better when you feel bad. Things that have nothing to do with work."

"Nothing to do with work," he exclaimed, "My work is my life. It's what I do best."

"Perhaps, you could consider what other things that you do well," she said getting up. She opened the door to issue him out into the waiting room where Jack seemed have moved on to an old copy of The Advocate with Melissa Etheridge on the cover.

Jack got up and stretched and yawned, "Feel better Daniel?"

"I'll feel better when I can go back to the team," he said clearly.

"Well there's only one answer for that," Jack told him.

"Which is?"

"Seeing the doctor twice a week," Jack said with a straight face. "Let's get out of here."


End file.
